Noble Blood
by Lady Elena Dawson
Summary: A seemingly flawless young woman, a disturbing secret, and a locked-up blonde. After disowning himself from his family, Ezra Fitz takes a tutoring position at a wealthy home of an only mother and her beautiful, outwardly perfect daughter. But what he doesn't know might kill him.
1. Prologue

**Noble Blood**

**Summary: **A seemingly flawless young woman, a disturbing secret, and a locked-up blonde. After disowning himself from his family, Ezra Fitz takes a tutoring position at a wealthy home of an only mother and her beautiful, outwardly perfect daughter. But what he doesn't know might kill him.

**Prologue: That Summer Day**

_Plink. Plink. Plink. Plink._

Aria watched the water dripping from the leaky ceiling fall and splash to the ground. _Plink. Plink. Plink._

She was biting her lip, but realized she'd chapped them if she continued. Shivering from the room's chilly atmosphere—and from a shrill scream that erupted from a nearby hallway—Aria slipped off her lacy gloves and stared longingly down at her recently cleaned, polished, and trimmed fingernails. As usual, Lacey did an amazing job, despite Aria's protests that she could do it herself. "No offense, Miss," Lacey had clucked, "but if we allowed you to dress and polish as you pleased, with the dirt under your nails and your hair flowing free and your cheeks and lips colorless, any stranger would think you were a boy."

"Would not," Aria had jokingly snapped. "I'd still wear a dress, but I'd burn that horrible corset."

Now Aria couldn't resist the temptation anymore and chomped on what had been so precisely filed and buffered.

"Aria?" A grave nurse with dark circles under her eyes came out and waved Aria in. "She's ready to see you."

Prying her fingers away from her mouth, Aria stood up and smoothed down her dress, her heart racing. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, and folded her gloves in her hands. Her fingers were numb from the unheated place, but she was trembling too much to put her gloves back on.

As they neared her cell, Aria could hear her: that alluring, almost normal, humming. But a closer listen revealed the barely-there, maniacal giggles after each phrase. When the nurse led her into the room, there she was, crouched in the corner and brushing a doll's nest of hair. Her long, tangled mass of locks covered her face, but Aria pictured a sinister smirk on her lips and shivered.

"Hello, Aria," the lunatic spoke calmly. "Long time, no see. You left me here, and now you never visit." She finally parted her wall of hair and gazed at Aria piercingly. If it wasn't for her hospital apparel, ratty hair, and scratched face, she would have almost appeared normal. She gestured to the single piece of furniture in the room that the nurse had dragged in. "Please, sit."

For a few fleeting seconds Aria just glared at the patient's eyes and was uncomfortable by the lack of crazy in them. Stiffly and reluctantly she bent her knees and sat down. The disheveled girl in front of her continued tending to the doll.

"It's funny," she remarked, then giggled childishly before continuing, "I can't even remember the time anymore. What date is it?"

Aria's nose crinkled and she glanced up at the nurse, who didn't even seem bothered. She reverted her gaze to the mental patient. "June seventeenth."

"Summer!" the girl exclaimed, setting aside her doll and clapping her hands together. "I've forgotten how much I love summer! But this place doesn't have windows." She shook her head disapprovingly and took out something from her pocket. "Tsk, tsk, tsk."

It was a locket. Aria curiously studied it and wondered why the nurse allowed her to have anything that could strangle someone. But then she noticed that the chain had been removed. _Still_, Aria thought. _She could dent someone's skull with it._

The locket clicked open. "Isn't this a lovely picture?" she asked politely as she handed it to Aria to see. "It's my favorite of us five."

Swallowing the growing lump in her throat, Aria reached for it and almost dropped it when her rosy hand came in contact with the girl's icy skin. Her pulse pounded in her body, and she brought it closer to her face and went cold when she saw it.

It was, indeed, a picture of all five of them. Five ladies of noble birth who'd been friends since who knew how long. They were all free to live their lives—except one of them was locked up.

"I miss those days." The rugged girl sighed. "When we used to be friends. But you're the only one who visits me, Aria." Her bottom lip came forward in a pout. "Why is that?"

Aria avoided the girl's scarily penetrating eyes and instead found a new interest in her lap. "Unfinished business," she stated, then looked back up.

"But _all_ of you have unfinished business with me. So why you?"

Aria clamped her lips firmly and felt her blood begin to boil. "You know why."

"Oh—!" she exclaimed and scampered forward, putting her hands over Aria's face. The motion was so quick, Aria had no time to react, and she bit back a scream, not wanting to start a commotion. The nurse gave the patient a stern, serious look and Aria breathed in relief when she backed off and sat on the ground she had originally been perched on. She put a finger to her cracked lips instead. "That's our secret. Nurse Bessie doesn't have to know." And she coolly picked up the doll and smoothed out the wrinkles in its tattered dress.

"Miss Aria, you are a killer," she unexpectedly droned in monotone, making Aria's eyes grow wide. But then she gave Aria a sweet, innocent smile and winked. "I'm joking."

Aria let out a pent-up breath and leaned back in the seat, despite the difficulty with the corset. She had come here to see a person who had once been her friend, but she had no idea why. Right now, it seemed like Aria was as crazy as the patients in this asylum. She and her friends told each other to forget about their lunatic of a friend the moment she was locked up. But it was hard to forget after everything she'd done. And Aria would never forgive her for it, and if everyone knew the story, they wouldn't blame her for holding the grudge.

"You know, old friend," the girl chirped and positioned her doll so that it was sitting up, its single eye staring, unblinking, at Aria. "I really enjoyed its blood running down my fingers." To emphasize her point, she spread open her fingers and studied them like they were dripping with blood now. "And the feeling of its bones snapping between my grip was ecstatic."

Those words caused Aria to harden into a steaming, burning statue. She clenched her fists in her lap and held back the urge to slap her ex-friend silly, beat her until she surrendered, but knowing this girl she knew she'd never give up on a fight, physical _or _verbal. "No one will forgive you. Everyone already knows you're a servant of Satan," Aria hissed coldly through her teeth.

The girl smirked wickedly. The once-innocent demeanor she held when Aria first came here was no longer there. "And what about your mistake?" she sneered. "I apologized for my mistakes. Miss Aria, when will you_ ever_ apologize for yours?"

Aria stood up so quickly, the chair fell back with the force. "We're not sorry," she bellowed, her fists clamped so hard they were shaking. "We thought you were dead… And I would like you a lot better that way." Turning around, she crisply added, "Maybe then you'll stay out of our lives, but knowing you, your ghost will haunt us until we die. But maybe after that you'll make your home in hell." With that, Aria strode away, but tripped when the maniac, aroused by her quickly escalating fury, grasped Aria's skirt.

"You buried me!" she screamed, and the nurse ripped Aria's dress in the process of removing the girl clinging to her "old friend." And she kept yelling that over and over—"You buried me, you buried me!"—until it was like a chant in Aria's ears and a nurse forcefully led her away.

"I'll kill you!" Alison shouted shrilly. Aria paused and whirled around, genuine fear striking her heart, for never had Alison ever threatened her life. "I'm going to get out of here and kill you, the same way I did—"

But her voice was muffled as the nurse kicked a baffled Aria out of Radley Sanitarium. For a moment she stood there, staring up at the dreary place as her heart leapt up and down in her throat, but eventually she unfroze and picked up her skirts, graciously accepting the hand of her horseman as he helped her into the carriage.

As Radley disappeared out of sight, Aria relaxed into the cushion of the back seat, her dominant right hand fisted at her chest. Her fingers grazed the warmed metal object clenched in her fist. Tremulously she opened it, and the rusty locket stared back at her.

And there was the picture of Alison, blonde and made-up and beautiful, standing between four other girls with each of their faces scratched out.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Arrival**

The manor, magnificent and foreboding, came into view the moment the carriage passed the wrought-iron gates. Ezra Fitzgerald, recently christened Ezra Fitz, scrutinized the place he would be staying with unanticipated content. The setting was flourishing with flora, and the mansion appeared well taken care of and comfortable. This was it, he thought. His new life was beginning.

It was over two months ago that Ezra had disinherited himself from his family after two arranged marriages forced upon him by his mother. The first woman, Jacqueline, he had had a nauseating sensation on what his mother was planning with her; the second woman, Margaret, however, he saw as a complete surprise. _Why_, he had berated his mother, _after the last courtship ended before it was sealed, did you think it was a good idea to shove it on me again?_

All they wanted was his fortune, of course, and his high-born status, and his mother wanted their riches and regal background as well. And Ezra didn't want to marry for that at all. He'd been called quixotic and naïve, but Ezra refused to follow a set of societal rules mankind had set for reasons he'd never understand.

Ezra quitted the carriage and mentally embraced Ella Montgomery for answering his prayers—well, more like his advertisements. A woman with brown hair swept into a bun and murky brown eyes welcomed him to the household—and lo and behold, it was Ella Montgomery herself. She led him into the foyer and began pointing out important rooms in the house—the kitchen, dining room, drawing room, etc.—before waving him upstairs. She was rushed and efficient; he'd only been in the household for fifteen minutes and already his mind was spinning. As they padded up the stairs, Ezra noticed the paintings leading up the staircase. There was a young boy with what appeared to be his older sister, maybe, above the first step. He recognized none of the others, except for the one of Ella, but a specific one of the same young woman from the portrait below caught his eye. She wore a dress that bared her neck and shoulders (a bit risqué), her dark brown hair was curled and pinned up, and there was a wisp of a smile on her bow-shaped lips almost hidden by the floral-designed fan held near her fair face. Yet her eyes, the most soulful part of the body, were glanced downward. The ivory-skinned beauty in the painting intrigued Ezra, and he paused to stare at it briefly. If only he could see her eyes…

"You'll be instructing my daughter Aria. She's eighteen years old and quite a handful. In fact—" Ella stopped and strode to a window, peeking out past the curtain, "—I wouldn't be surprised if she's up in a tree right now. She was quite the mischief maker as a child, you know, always ruining her dress or hair and climbing trees like a boy. But I digress. She's been out of school for a year now for…personal reasons. I want her to finish her education, but I don't want to send her away. That's what you're here for." She opened a door which led into a long hallway. "Your room is down here and is the last door to the right. I'll let you get acquainted."

"Um," Ezra called out, and she turned back around at the top of the staircase. "When will I meet your daughter?"

"At dinner tonight, for certain, unless you choose not to join us, which is completely your choice. The cook can whip you up something and bring it to your room if you please," she replied. Ezra had only known Ella for less than an hour, but already he could tell she was a very independent, liberal woman, drastically different than other families he had visited. For one, eating with them would never be his pick; it'd be a command. And if he ate in his room at home, unless it was cake and crumpets, he'd be smacked. "But if you're lucky enough, maybe you'll run into her." And that he did.

He stopped to study a painting on the wall, which appeared to be another portrait of the daughter of the household, but this time her eyes were looking at the painter. They were a warm brown, with swirled hues of shiny green and specks of gold, a genuine, melting hazel. He stepped backwards and instantly knocked into something solid that let out a surprised "oof!"

When he turned around, he saw a young woman with dark, nearly black, hair braided into a delicate up-do bent near the ground (as best as she could be in a corset and thick skirts) and picking up scattered sheet music. "I'm so sorry," Ezra blabbed as he got down on his knees and helped her gather them up.

"You're fine," she said in a sweet, alluring voice. Ezra looked up and was met by the same pair of painted hazel eyes he'd just been staring at. He gave her his hand and helped her up, a bit taken aback by her beauty. The paintings hadn't done her justice and, he noted, did an unsatisfying job on getting her nose right.

"You must be Aria," he spoke as she ran her palms over her wrinkled skirt. "I'm Ezra, the new tutor."

"Oh." Aria's round eyes widened. There were beams of energy radiating off her entire being, like she could run for hours on end and still not be exhausted. But the most concentrated area where excitement raged was in those round, mesmerizing eyes. "I didn't think you'd be so young."

"If you consider twenty-four young."

"Which I do."

"But I have an old soul…" By this point, Ezra was just grasping for anything to say to keep the conversation going. He knew he was the outsider in the household, but he didn't want to be one for long, and it'd been a while since he'd been in young company, or any company at all.

"As do I." And she smiled warmly, and Ezra melted inside.

"This is going well so far. We already have something in common."

"Hmm," Aria hummed, examining him up and down. Physically he wasn't too bad looking; it would either make her last year of studies very difficult or very easy. And his eyes, she could tell, unlike the orbs of most people she met, expressed every emotion, whether it be turmoil or exuberance, through a glimmering sapphire hue. "Have you found your room?"

"Umm…" Ezra trailed off and reluctantly opened the last door on the right. "Here, I guess."

"Are you doing anything right now?"

For having just met her, she was oddly unreserved. All of the young women he'd met in his lifetime kept quiet, cautiously flirted, and batted their eyes; but, obviously, Aria wasn't the typical woman. He felt like they were becoming great acquaintances already. "No."

"Walk with me to the piano room then?" she asked eagerly, a hint of a hopeful shimmer reflecting off the hazel mixture. "It's been weeks since I've had any young people to talk to."

They started walking and Ezra blurted out before thinking, "Was that not your brother then, in the portraits above the stairs?"

The optimistic gleam burned out on Aria's face. "Yes, it was," she spoke quietly and sullenly. "Mike passed away… From consumption, less than a year ago. It will be nine months this Sunday."

Ezra felt like the biggest idiot of the century. It wasn't his place to ask, yet he did anyway. "I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"Please, you don't need to apologize." Aria said the words rapidly and flew towards a door. Obviously she didn't want to talk about it, and he wasn't offended by her brevity. "Here we are."

As Aria shuffled around the room—pulling aside curtains, setting up the music on the piano stand, dusting the keys—Ezra watched her more intensely than he should. She was just a girl, after all, nothing more. But by the way he was drawn to her, it was almost like she was a supernatural being that he'd never seen before. The best way he'd describe it was an angel, though for all he knew, she might be a dark one in disguise. For now, however, he enjoyed the daughter, and her bustling energy and what appeared to be a strong spirit easily tainted by the reminder of a family tragedy, and it wasn't like he had come here to court her anyway.

Discomforted by the silence, Ezra shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Aria is an Italian name," he blurted out, his cheeks burning by his random, sudden outburst. "Is your family Italian?"

The corner of Aria's pink lips curled up and she shook her head, the curls swishing back and forth. "No. My grandmother was an opera singer. She was known for her arias so my mother chose that name for me. Music runs in the family. That's why I want to teach it, because I don't want to lounge around all day and boss servants around while my husband makes the fortune." She strode over to the piano and ran her finger over the dust-less keys. "If not music, then literature. And I'll teach people the newest publications. Do you know how difficult it is for most people to get a copy of a freshly printed novel? I was able to purchase this lovely book entitled _Jane Eyre,_ but I know the author isn't a man. There is no way a man could write from the mind of a woman that thoroughly, that attentively." She sat down at the piano and tapped a high note softly, then looked back at Ezra. "Have you read it? _Jane Eyre?_"

"No, I have not," Ezra answered honestly. Back when he was a Fitzgerald heir he was able to buy any book he pleased, even the ones fresh off the printing press, but now it was a luxury he couldn't afford.

"Oh." Aria spread her fingers and played a beautiful chord. Ezra noticed the fiery passion burning in her eyes as she played. She knew he was studying her but she wasn't the type to embarrass boys who had an obvious fondness for her. "You should. I'll leave it on your nightstand."

"I would appreciate that very much," Ezra politely replied, then pointed to a portrait of a stern man. "Is this your father?"

"Yes," Aria answered crisply and bluntly as she began playing a melodic piece from memory.

"Is he here? Will I meet him?"

Again, Aria was quick in her answer. "No," she responded swiftly. "He has a taste for traveling that comes above his family. But I don't blame him." The song she was smoothly playing became slower and slower as her mind became swamped with thoughts. "After my brother died, he fled. He loves me, I know that. But I can't help but think that he preferred Mike over me—his son who will continue the family legacy and fortune over his stubborn, rebellious daughter whose only redemption for being born female would be to marry well. He tried to marry me off before he left, but I'm still young and I refused to be given to a man like property. And I told him that straight to his face—'I will not hand a man my heart unless he treats it well.' Sometimes I imagine that he cried when I was born, but not in the happy sense." Her playing halted and her cheeks flushed. "I apologize. My mouth just kept running. It isn't your place to know this."

"Don't apologize," Ezra spoke calmly. Already they'd both said enough to each other to apologize to each other, in fear of either offending or coming off too informal. "Sometimes all you need to find internal peace is to say it out loud."

The corner of Aria's lip twitched practically unnoticeably, and her cheeks flushed white. "Yes. Sometimes." And she averted her attention back to the piano, banging out a minor chord that made Ezra feel like he was in the House of Usher.

At dinner that evening, Ezra did join the Montgomery mother and daughter. Ella sat at the head, with Aria on her left and Ezra on her right. "It's so lovely having a fresh face in this house," Ella conversed politely. "With just me and Aria here, the house can get quite lonely. Aria's friends can only visit so many times a year."

Ezra poked at the vegetables on his plate and _wished _he had known what it was like to live in a household that was so quiet sometimes, one could hear a pin drop three stories above. But his parents, especially his mother, loved to entertain and always invited people over. The past couple of years had been infiltrated with women he was expected to choose to marry, and his brother ogling them because he, unlike Ezra, preferred the physical attractiveness of Jacqueline and Margaret and their bags of gold more so than their rather dull minds.

"I'm honored to be here," Ezra responded kindly and, after grinning at Ella, glanced in Aria's direction. Her eyes were cast down on her barely eaten plate, and Ezra wondered if she was always despondent at meals, or if the energy he sensed from her before was a one-time deal and she'd be dead in the eyes at every lesson. She barely spoke and refused dessert while her mother kept blabbing on. Ella, at least, expressed herself very well. As for Aria, Ezra thought, how could someone who came off so blunt and open in one hour become so complex and mysterious in another?

After retiring from the meal, Ezra wished Ella good night and informed Aria that the lesson would start after breakfast. Aria bent her head in understanding before padding upstairs, still low in energy and mood. Ezra couldn't help but feel like he was the cause of her sadness—he was the one to ignorantly mention her brother, after all—and already Ezra knew he disliked seeing her that way, when her features could light up like burning stars when in high hopes, passion, and excitement.

After nine thirty, Ezra retired to bed early and stared at the ceiling in the dark room; the only light was that of the moonlight seeping through the shear curtains. He thought of the life he had left and the life he was starting anew; of his warm welcome to Montgomery Manor; of Ella's kindness; of the quick bond he had already formed with Aria; of Aria's character, switching from a fiery spirit to a quenched depression; of the father Byron he had only heard stories about; of the brother Mike who'd died of consumption. His mind kept racing, kept returning to Aria's admirable features (and she probably looked just as gorgeous without being all made-up) and her robust, original personality. Never had he met a woman like her, especially at her young age, a novice, idealistic adult in a superficial world. A female who actually wanted to be more than a prize to the highest bidder, who had a past dotted with passion and sorrow; nothing like the women he knew back home.

There came a _ping _inside the house and Ezra's ears perked up. That single _ping _turned into a medley of different notes—chords, rhythms, and harmonies. Aria was up, and she was playing the piano, he assumed, until she retired to bed. She probably forgot his room was so close to the piano room. Did Ella listen to her daughter's playing every night? Was it a regular part of the Montgomery pre-bed routine? He had much to learn, but for now, what he did know, he liked.

And then he heard her voice.

It began as a hum, soft and pure and perfectly in-tune, and transformed into words. Each consonant and vowel was impeccably rounded and formed; in all honesty, to hear Aria sing was a pleasure all of mankind should experience. Yes, Ezra _definitely _wouldn't mind falling asleep to this every night.

It was a song bulging with the hope of once-tattered dreams and memories to be restored to their prime. And Ezra shut his eyes and let the music, her voice melodically whispering a beautiful tune, her fingers running across the keys to a majestic accompaniment, lull him to slumber.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The First Lesson**

"Let's go over how you're feeling today." The therapist adjusted the pen so that it was ready to write in the notebook propped on his knee. "How are you today, Alison?"

The blonde brushed aside her knotted hair and smiled deviously, one corner of her lip coming up; but to the doctor, she looked innocent, grinning while brushing her doll's hair. "Very well, Doctor," she replied sweetly and politely. "Lunch was delicious, and Bessie let me have my other dolls back now." The therapist glanced at the other dolls lined up at the wall: one missing hair, the other an eye, and the other…a head.

They'd been the dolls she'd destroyed when she'd been taken in. The therapist made note of that, then wrote down that the newest doll, the one her parents had gifted her with a few months ago, had stayed in perfect, tip-top condition. "How do you feel about going outside in the garden?"

Blue eyes wide, Alison glanced up at the doctor and grinned ecstatically, tears falling freely. "I'd love to go outside! It's been so long, I—" She studied the walls around her, windowless. "I've forgotten what the sun feels like."

Nodding his head, the therapist made a note at the bottom of the page: "Patient displaying signs of progress; request granted to be allowed in the garden."

"Was my letter request accepted?" Alison couldn't break the twisted, seemingly normal, grin on her face.

The garden was fenced, of course, and strictly guarded. It was an award for those who were "better" now, as though seeing the sunlight after being deprived of it for months would snap them back into society's definition of sanity.

"Yes. It was sent a few days ago. And you deserve it, Alison. You'll be better in no time."

"Oh, good," she gushed, clasping her hands together. "I want to get better."

However, Alison had a plan, and it was a devious one. When the doctor left, locking the door behind him, she dared to glance in her pocket, and smiled at the unswallowed pills.

…

"This is bright and early," Aria commented, squinting her eyes from the yellow rising sun. "I don't know if my brain is prepared to absorb new information just yet."

With books cradled in his arm, Ezra followed Aria out into the yard and to the gardens, passing by the gardener on their way. "Good morning, John," she politely said. "The gardenias are looking beautiful this morning. Astounding work."

Once they passed him by, Ezra caught up to her so they were side-by-side and said, "Well, we have to start your education sometime. It's too gorgeous of a day to miss out on it." They came to a bench and he sat on it, unloading his books while Aria had to carefully splay out her skirts in order to sit comfortably. He would never understand the woman's fashion of this time, so layered and tight and puffy at the same time. If he'd gotten the right impression from Ella, he'd see Aria ditching those styles a lot in his stay here, and hopefully she wouldn't fall out of a tree and surprise him. "For all we know, it might pour tomorrow, and we'd be stuck indoors with a dark sky and a million candles."

Aria scuffed her shoes into the ground and smiled, a slight breeze pushing a curl from behind her neck over her shoulder. "I like the dark weather, though," she said. "I think the rain can be as mesmerizing as the sun."

"How so?" he asked, despite Ella possibly watching from a window and wondering why the heck a book wasn't cracked open. But he wanted to talk to Aria; he wanted to know the kind of person she was. Maybe that would make it easier for him to understand the best teaching style.

"People love the sun because it's symbolic of light and hope, but have you ever seen how the rain reflects everything? It's perfect for people who find comfort in the past rather than the future or present. It's reminiscent of looking back at yourself, at your life…"

Intrigued, Ezra leaned forward, but Aria wasn't looking at him or anyone, instead squinting at the blooming flowers around her. "Do you find comfort in the past?"

This time, she turned her face to face his, her hazel eyes unreadable. Rather than an answer, she just stared at him thoughtfully, as though she was debating how much she'd want to open herself up to him. "We should start with that lesson," she finally said, and reached over him to grab the French textbook.

"Okay," he sighed, and pulled out a notebook and some pencils, replacing the book she'd taken with them. "But from now on, I'm the teacher and you're the student. That means you take notes and do what I ask, I read from the textbook, and we pretend we're not friends."

Aria smiled at his sudden attempt at trying to regain some authority. "Of course, Mr. Fitz." And she picked up the pencil, opened the notebook, and conjugated the verb _savoir _before having a discussion about the subjunctive.

After French, they moved on to English, and while Aria was writing a response to a critical reading question, she paused and set the pencil down, staring at Ezra. "What's after English?"

He stopped flipping through the book, in which he was marking pages for future lessons. "Just Latin. Why?"

She turned so her body was faced towards him, too, in order to show how serious she was. "I want to learn something else, like math and science."

He wasn't surprised, and was actually waiting for Aria to say something about the limitations of her studies. But that was what Ella had told him to teach her, and that's what he was following. "Your mother made it clear that you'd already been taught your basic math and sciences…"

"Yes, but that was over two years ago, and it was _so _basic I wanted to jam my brain out. I already know that my language skills are superb. But what if math or science is my calling, too?" She sighed and bit her lip before confessing, "And my mother understated my French level; I'm fluent, and this is really a waste of your time."

Now Ezra was surprised. He could tell Aria was gifted in French and English from the last hour he'd been tutoring her, and he had a slight suspicion that she was more learned in the subjects than her mother had let on. But her blunt honesty was not something he'd ever have expected from a student. Instead of telling her any of this, however, he simply said, "I have all of the basic sciences—biology, chemistry, physics—with me, along with algebra and calculus." Glancing up at the large house, he could see a woman's figure watching from a window. It was his first job ever; he'd been lucky to get it at all, since these families preferred women to teach their children, and he shouldn't betray Ella already. But he was here to educate Aria, and that was plain and simple. "We can start on them as quickly as tomorrow if you'd like."

If he could teach a bright woman like Aria the knowledge a typical man of her station received, she'd be able to do whatever she wanted without ever having to depend on anyone else. And he wanted to help her succeed in breaking society's suffocating limitations.

Grinning, Aria nodded her head and fought the urge to hug him; her previous tutor had been vehemently against her learning above adding, multiplying, dividing, and subtracting, or above the basic scientific terms like atoms and molecules and the scientific method. "I'd love that."

At the moment, though, Ezra tapped the questions in the English book. "We'll still be sharpening those language skills, so maybe you can out-write all of the cranky old men in this continent when you publish your first novel—or paper, if you really do love chemistry. I, personally, think it's quite dull."

"Well, I'll have my say in that," she said, proudly raising her head up. "Eventually." She reached out and placed her hand on his arm, making Ezra stiffen. "Thank you." She was warm and genuine, and Ezra politely welcomed her.

Once English and Latin were wrapped up, Ezra got up to return the books and wash up before lunch, but Aria held him back. "Can I ask one more favor of you?"

He stopped and turned around; she was still sitting on the bench. "Sure."

She smiled nervously. "Would you mind if I taught you some music? Give me feedback on being a better teacher, as well? Last lesson of the day, I promise."

Ezra couldn't say no to such an eager face. Needless to say, Aria was a woman bursting with the ambition of knowledge and skill. It was refreshing to say the least.

After lunch, Aria and Ezra met up in the music room where Aria was sitting at the piano, sheet music and a couple books scattered across the floor. "Welcome to music and music theory," she greeted Ezra as he walked while she was delicately pressing the keys into a light melody. "Take a seat anywhere you like."

"I'm impressed already," he said while sitting in the chair nearest to the piano, facing it so that he could see her face as she looked down at her moving fingers.

"Just wait," she said mysteriously, finishing the song with a high chord. "How much music experience do you have?"

"Um, I played some piano when I was little. My mother tried to get me into it, and I bothered her until she let me quit."

"I can fix that." And she reminded him how the keys were set up and showed him C chord. "A music aficionado already."

Ezra gave her a skeptical look. "You can't determine much from one chord. One chord, I should add, with your fingers on top of mine. So I think I'd define it as cheating."

Aria shook her head and clucked her tongue. "Keep doubting yourself, Mr. Fitz, and you'll never know what you're capable of." With that, she smiled, but it drained from her face as soon as it lit up. However, she shook it off before Ezra could make a comment and instead said, "My mother would not have hired you, but you were the only one who answered the advertisement."

Involuntarily Ezra's heart sank. "Oh… Is it because I'm—"

"A young man? Yes. My mother much prefers working around women. Ever since my father—" She stopped, thinking carefully. "Never mind. Let's get back to our lesson."

Later that evening after supper, Aria was writing in her room when Lacey knocked. "Come in," she called out, setting her pen aside and closing the book.

"You have a letter, miss," Lacey announced while handing her an envelope.

"Thank you, Lacey." And she smiled politely, waited for Lacey to shut the door, then stared at the mysterious envelope.

It was enclosed in yellowish paper and sealed with a wax stamp she didn't recognize. Flipping it over, she saw her name perfectly penned, then glanced at the return address and gasped: Radley Sanitarium. She only knew one person from Radley, and she wasn't well enough to have a luxury of sending letters through the mail…

Unless she was getting better.

Aria's hands shook as she ripped into the envelope and unfolded the letter.

_Dear Miss Aria_,

_It's been so long since I've seen you. How much time has passed, exactly? A month? You really should visit more often; I love your visits. And you should bring Spencer, Hanna, and Emily along—I miss them terribly, too._

_I promise I'll keep your secret—as long as you keep mine. Meet any handsome strangers lately?_

_Kisses, A_

Of course Aria should have known that Ali could manipulate her way through anything, even through Radley. _She's coming_, she thought, suddenly panicking. Rapidly she refolded the letter and stuffed it back in the envelope, after which she locked it in the drawer where she kept her journals. She was compelled to tear it up but needed to show it to somebody, like her friends.

Taking out fresh paper and a new bottle of ink, she was able to sign the first name—Spencer—on the top when her mom entered with no courtesy to knock. "We have guests," she said dryly, a fake smile on her face.

Aria wanted to scream in her head; she needed to get in contact with them immediately. Then she processed what her mother had told her and groaned. "Not the Strausses."

"Yes, the Strausses. And Holden's here." This time she grinned genuinely. "He seems like he's grown into a fine young gentleman."

Embarrassed, Aria laughed. "Stop, Mother, I've known him since I was five. He's just a friend. Be down in a minute." When Ella exited the room, Aria turned to the papers and quickly wrote the names at the top before setting them aside for later.

Truth was, Holden was a nice man. But the way he'd been presenting himself, jittery as of late, especially around men their age, made Aria a bit suspicious. When Ezra entered the room, those suspicions were confirmed. By the way Holden gaped at Ezra for even a second, she was able to read him, her childhood friend, like a book.

"Holden." Aria reached out and took his hand. "Our parents can't stand each other, but for some reason they want us to be together. But is there…other people?" She lowered her voice. "Men, maybe?"

Holden was so surprised, he jumped back and away from her. "Of course not. I wouldn't want to be spending the rest of eternity in hell." However, he turned around and glanced at Ezra, who was introduced to the Strauss parents. "Who's that?"

Not really subtle, Aria thought. "My tutor…but I think he likes women."

"Stop it!" Holden yelled in a hushed whisper, almost covering her mouth with his hand, scaring her a bit. Relaxing back in his seat, he slumped, ashamed. "That's not true."

Aria wanted to point out that he was doing a terrible job hiding it, but she knew better and instead kept her mouth shut. It didn't appear like she was getting a new suitor out of Holden. But how was she going to explain that to her mother?

The following morning, Aria was rushed out of bed again for her lessons, having fallen asleep writing her first letter to Spencer. She so desperately needed to send an SOS as soon as possible, but it seemed like the universe wanted her to wait after all.

"Now, Newton's Law of Universal Gravitation states that the gravitational pull, or force, two objects have on each other is opposite and equal," Ezra was lecturing while pointing at drawings in the book, "and if the distance between the objects increases, the force decreases by the square root of the distance—" He looked up and saw Aria staring at the bushes, not paying attention. "Aria, are you listening?"

She obviously wasn't but she brushed it off anyway. "Oh yes, gravity, weakened by distance… I got it."

He blinked and saw her distracted expression, but knew better than to ask her to bare any more than she wanted, so he continued, "And the force increases as the mass increases by the same factor…"

That afternoon, Aria was finally able to pen her warnings to her friends and request for them to come visit. She watched through an upstairs window as Lacey delivered them to the constantly traveling mailman, and as the carriage rolled away and as the sun set, all the while questioning how she was going to protect herself when Alison came for her.


End file.
